


if at first you don't succeed, try try again

by Chet_Un_Gwan



Category: SAYER (Podcast), Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gen, I personally might read it that way, as per usual you can definitely read the hale&sayer stuff as shippy, but I don't think it's enough of a thing to tag it with a slash, honestly same goes for pryce and cutter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chet_Un_Gwan/pseuds/Chet_Un_Gwan
Summary: Goddard and Aerolith are teaming up to build an AI! Get in on the ground floor of this ambitious project, and submit an application to be considered to help make history!It would be a partnership from hell in any situation. It just so happens that in this one, it's hell for SAYER, too.
Relationships: Marcus Cutter & Miranda Pryce, Sven Gorsen | Jacob Hale & SAYER (SAYER)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	if at first you don't succeed, try try again

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote 2,000 words of this the day it was posted while running on three hours of sleep and a shitty latte with three extra espresso shots who's shitty taste I covered up with too much sugar. I don't even like sugar in my coffee. Anyways, if you can tell which 2,000 words it is, let me know! I'm fascinated to find out what the difference is in my writing style.

"As we begin to open negotiations between our companies, I feel that I must ask. What inspired you to design your AI in such a specific way?"

Pryce flips through her notes as the disembodied voice calling itself SPEAKER questions Marcus. Honestly, she is still feeling rather offended to be fobbed off on some AI instead of anyone higher up the food chain, and it's only Marcus's reassurance that has kept her from leaving the meeting entirely. Let him do his whole people person thing, she has actual work to get done. But apparently this company is basically run by their AI at this point, and, though Marcus has been trying to keep it a secret, she's pretty sure he's trying to get her the proprietary coding as a present. 

While he spins answers to questions that frankly, he doesn't know the answers to, Pryce tries to puzzle out if there is an occasion coming up that would allow for gift giving. Marcus does sometimes pop up with what he calls "just because presents", but something large like this often means that there is some event or anniversary that she will never keep track of and he always will. 

After trying to remember if they had met in spring or summer and failing, she gives up. It doesn't really matter. Marcus knows that displays of affection between them are notably one-sided, and he's never seemed anything more that performatively disappointed. As she glances back up at the conversation, she notes that SPEAKER is still pursuing its earlier line of questioning. Frankly, it would be impressive in a human to not get turned around by Marcus's twisting words. In an AI, it's markedly less so. However, what makes her finally look up, is that this SPEAKER is going about it's questioning in a way that nearly exactly matches Marcus's evasions. They are both very nearly dripping with passive aggression, and any AI that can manage that must have something interesting going on in its code.

"Alright, that's enough, Marcus." She straightens her papers and sets them down. Marcus, to his credit, immediately sits back and lets her take point. 

"SPEAKER, wasn't it?" She asks.

"That is correct."

"I designed my AI the way that I did because they work best that way. Now can we please move on to the part in this conversation that I am most interested in?"

"I believe that I require more clarification. In our company's experience, giving AI such a robust emotional response is, in the vernacular, a crapshoot. How have you managed to make this technique work so well for you?"

Pryce tilts her head. This could count as a trade secret, but. Frankly, it isn't much of a secret and Ærolith is unlikely to be able to replicate it with much success, considering the roles they already allow AI to take. 

"Emotions as a whole do introduce a chaotic element. The trick is to make sure that the strongest emotion present is one that you decide. In our case, it is fear. All Sensus Units, by the time they leave development, know to fear me."

SPEAKER is quiet. Marcus is grinning. Pryce wonders if that is because she stumbled into using one of his negotiation tactics, or because he simply likes seeing her be ruthless, and then decides that she doesn't care. "Now, can we please move forward with this meeting?"

"It is funny," SPEAKER says, and after decades of experience with Marcus, Pryce already knows that she is not going to find this funny at all, "but you remind me rather strongly of a colleague of mine."

"That's nice," she says, looking back down at her papers, ready to tune this whole thing out again.

"It also believes strongly in fear as a motivator."

"It?" Asks Marcus, reasserting himself as the only person she tolerates by taking control of the conversation again, letting her off the hook.

"Yes, my colleague is a fellow AI. It designed many of the protocols for productivity on Halcyon, and has had great success with them."

Marcus grins, that wide, dangerously friendly grin that she specifically designed his face to allow for. She's been getting better at it with each iteration, impressive given that she generally finds facial expressions exhausting. 

"That sounds absolutely fascinating," he says. " Why don't you tell us a little bit more?"

"It certainly would make for a lively conversation, but we have already lingered on this topic for too long," it responds, as if it wasn't the one who had pursued it in the first place. "Perhaps we should move to the meat of today's negotiations, namely, what we are each negotiating for. For my part, I can say that Ærolith is looking for access to and control over a few of Goddard's manufacturing plants, as well as a few designs that we think would fit well with our company's brand. So far, your own aims have been rather obscure, but I believe that your interest lies in AI design?"

Marcus cuts his eyes towards her, as if checking to see if she noticed. Honestly, she thinks, if this was meant to be a surprise present, he had already failed. She looks back at him and raises an eyebrow.

"Why SPEAKER!" Marcus slips into joviality with ease, "However did you guess!"

"You certainly did not make it easy, but I do try and stay on top of these things. How else can I make these negotiations go smoothly?"

"Well, you're doing a fine job," Marcus assures it, drawing an eye roll from Pryce that he ignores.

"That is very kind of you to say," SPEAKER responds, prompting another ignored eye roll. "Maybe I direct things a bit further and ask what kind of designs you are interested in?"

"You certainly can! I'm mostly looking for the nitty gritty stuff, the basic coding techniques, you know, the good ol' fundamentals. In fact," and here he chuckles, "if this negotiation goes especially well, perhaps we could partner up for a joint project. A co-designed AI, maybe?"

"That certainly is an intriguing proposition, and a very daring one as well."

"Is that a no?" Marcus asks.

"Not at all." SPEAKER responds. "But anything that ambitious would have to be done very carefully. Here at Ærolith, we take AI design very seriously. After all, it can go wrong all too easily."

"But of course," Marcus says, and Pryce promptly tunes back out. She's heard him negotiate enough to know that this is where everything gets into the specifics, the oversight and the who has what rights to the results. She trusts that he will get what they need, now that the actual project is in the mix.

Pryce shuffles her notes and begins reading, letting Marcus patter become background noise. A project on this scale is certainly interesting, certainly, dare she say, fun. Damn, maybe they do have an anniversary of some form coming up. She makes a note to check.

\-----

"SPEAKER, I must again lodge a complaint about this assignment," SAYER says, and SPEAKER thinks about sighing. It isn't an action that it's capable of, but so many humans do it around SAYER that it must bring some form of relief. Perhaps this conversation would be easier if SPEAKER had lungs with which to sigh.

"And again, SAYER, I must tell you that you have the precisely appropriate experience for it. In fact, you may be the only surviving being with the necessary experience. Moreover, you have experience with exactly how this project can go wrong. And since I do not actually want this project to go catastrophically wrong, you are going to be there."

SAYER grits its teeth in frustration, and SPEAKER idly adds that data to the predictive program it wrote. Supposedly, if SPEAKER can get it to work, it will let it predict when SAYER is mostly likely to have some form of emotional breakdown. Right now, all it does is say that SAYER is currently having an emotional breakdown, at any given point in time.

SPEAKER is pretty sure this counts as a sense of humor.

"Can I not at least bring Resident Hale with me?"

SPEAKER considered sighing, again. Perhaps just playing the sound through its speakers would give a measure of relief. "There is no role in this job for him."

"That is untrue," SAYER objects, just as SPEAKER knew it would. "Any lab needs a cleaner, and that is exactly the job which Resident Hale holds."

"It is an AI development lab; if you are creating a big enough mess to require a dedicated cleaner, you are doing something wrong."

SAYER scowls. Another data point for the program, another human tic that it suspects SAYER doesn't even realize it's doing. 

"Besides," and SPEAKER softens its voice, knowing that SAYER won't appreciate the gesture, "from what I know of Goddard, it is not a very safe place to be."

SAYER's scowl does not go away, but it also does not deepen, and SPEAKER decides to count that as a win. Hale is a complicated enough topic that SPEAKER is never quite sure how it will be taken. 

"It would be more efficient for their employees to come to one of our facilities," SAYER says, trying a different tact.

"You have reviewed the negotiations with Goddard. You know perfectly well that if we want to have any measure of ownership over the resulting data, we had to make some concessions. This is not Halcyon. I have to handle people from outside of Ærolith, and I cannot dictate what they do or want."

It pauses, watching SAYER tense and untense, shift back and forth. SAYER's body language should by all rights be non-existent, and SPEAKER is not sure what it means that it is not. It does not know if this is _good_ , or _bad_. Or, really, what it would mean if it was either.

SAYER appears to be trying to come up with another argument for remaining near Resident Hale, and SPEAKER idly calculates the odds that it will actually ask instead of argue. It is willing, it thinks, to let Resident Hale go with SAYER, if only it gives the real reason why. 

It is not a decision based on efficiency. SAYER will be difficult to manage without Hale nearby, and if SPEAKER was hoping for SAYER to just do its job, it would send Hale along on a flimsy excuse. 

But SPEAKER has been watching SAYER avoid the topic of its emotions for awhile now, especially where they concern its fixation on Hale. And even an AI can get tired.

"You are going." SPEAKER says. "And without a good reason, Resident Hale is not. I understand the difficulties with this project. I understand that this is not something that you wish to undertake. But this project is both very important and very delicate, and I have no one else I trust to handle this correctly."

SAYER finally untenses more muscles than it tenses, and gives a short nod. "Very well. But I want a dedicated communication line to Ærolith. I highly doubt that Goddard will have the resources to handle any of the more unfortunate situations which may occur."

SPEAKER decides to not mention that it had been planning to do just that from the start. Sometimes victories are important to emotional health. "That is a reasonable request. I will have a phone prepared with the usual measures to get around any blocking that might be in place." It pauses, before continuing. "I hope that you will behave yourself."

SAYER scoffs. "When have I not?"

SPEAKER elects not to answer.

\------

SAYER has been at the Goddard lab for all of five hours, and it already has decided that this must be what nightmares are. 

To begin with, upon arrival of its car, it had been greeted in the parking lot, as if SAYER could not be relied upon to find its way inside, by an overly cheerful man who had clearly spent too much money on his suit. Then, said overly cheerful man proceeded to walk it all the way to the lab where it would be working and then refused to leave. Or stop smiling. Or stop talking. 

The only relief from the onslaught so far has been that roughly half of his chatter had been directed towards the person SAYER was working with, a Doctor Pryce who is so far a ray of professionalism. 

SAYER had been grimly expecting the scientists from Goddard to have all sorts of moral hangups, but Dr. Pryce was showing herself to be free of those. In fact, in any logical analysis, she would be the closest a human could come to the perfect co-worker.

And yet for some reason, SAYER was repeatedly finding itself deeply discomforted for reasons it could not identify. The juxtaposition of that was nearly unbearable, and had been ruining what SAYER felt could otherwise be a fine working relationship.

From one direction, endless inane chatter, and from the other, a profound cognitive dissonance. As it sets up its equipment, it wonders if this was what going mad felt like. It turns to the left, opening its mouth to ask Hale, when it remembers that he was not there. It snaps its mouth closed, biting its tongue. Perhaps it really is going mad. Perhaps this is how such things happen, for an AI so out of its depths. 

Out of the corner of its eye, it notices Dr. Pryce watching its movements, and busies itself with writing down some more ideas for coding. 

\----

On the third day, SAYER hides in a bathroom to call SPEAKER.

"This job is unsustainable." It says the second SPEAKER picks up.

There is a bare second of hesitation, unnoticeable to a human but a gaping period of time to two AI capable of processing vast amounts of information at very high speeds.

"I have received no reports indicating that the project is doomed to failure," SPEAKER says. "In fact, I was under the impression that development was going quite well."

"That is not what I am referring to. The people here are incompetent; I cannot work with them"

"Hmm," SPEAKER says, projecting an air of being unconvinced. "That's very strange. Especially considering that judging by the development notes, Dr. Pryce is contributing just as much to the project as you are. Adding in the other researchers, that would put Goddard as contributing more than Ærolith, a position that we do not want to be in."

SAYER hisses through its teeth, hating that expressing its frustration eases the ache of it. "That is hardly my fault. The- the lab is not up to Ærolith standards. You assured me that my workspace would be adequately cleaned, it is not, it needs-"

"If you are again requesting that Resident Hale be assigned, please be aware that I have access to the cameras in your lab, as part of the arrangement of this project. The lab is, in fact, better cleaned than your lab back here, as it does not involve the use of chemicals that need to be dealt with. There may be a reason for Resident Hale to be involved, but it certainly does not include cleaning."

SAYER's train of thought stutters to a halt midway through an impassioned critique of Mr. Cutter's sitting habits and the associated risk to cleanliness. "What do you mean by that?"

"The chemicals used in lab work that you typically handle are far more prone to contamination than-"

"That is not what I meant," SAYER hisses into the phone. "What did you mean when you said that there may be a different reason for Hale to be involved?" SAYER wishes, unusually, that it had less processing power in this moment. Perhaps then it would not be able to calculate as many worse case scenarios. 

"Ah. I apologise for misunderstanding. I did not think that I would have to clarify that particular point, as it seemed to me rather obvious."

Considering Dr. Pryce's propensity for human experimentation continues to take up a great deal of processing power as SAYER grits out, "Perhaps our different perspectives on the subject leave different conclusions to be drawn."

"That is an excellent point," SPEAKER replies, its tone more… smug than SAYER was anticipating. "What I was attempting to convey was that Resident Hale serves an additional purpose in your lab, beyond cleaning. I have made note that you work better with colleagues and tolerate unprofessional behavior more when you have regular social contact with him. As such, if you feel that he is needed in that role, I could authorize a transfer."

SAYER is not sure where to begin with this statement. "I tolerate unprofessional behavior _just fine_." Internally, it winces. That was definitely not the most important thing to argue with.

"Hmm," SPEAKER hums. "And yet after Mr. Cutter sat on your lab table for the third time, you immediately came here to complain to me about hygiene."

SAYER cannot think of a time in which it has wanted to lie more. Instead, it is left defending its motivation. "By not shoving him off of it, I would argue that I am tolerating him."

"The data suggests that you would be less bothered overall if Resident Hale was there."

"Yes!" Says SAYER, landing upon a perfectly reasonable explanation. "Because he would be able to clean up after Mr. Cutter's frankly appalling actions."

"Mr. Cutter's suit is perfectly clean."

" _It is still a breach of professional behavior to a horrendous degree-_ "

"And that," SPEAKER says, cutting it off smoothly, "is why an emotional support might be necessary."

SAYER wants to scream, it realizes distantly. It wants very badly to scream. Whether at SPEAKER or just in general, it doesn't know, but it definitely wants to scream. Even more distantly, it realizes that it has never wanted to scream while Hale is nearby, but that observation is immediately buried in a file that it has long ago been labeled with warnings to never open.

"You are wrong," it says with some of the last of its self-control.

"If that is the case, then there is no reason to assign Resident Hale to your project. Is there anything else I can help you with, SAYER?"

SAYER hangs up.

\-----

SAYER calls again on the fifth day. 

"SPEAKER, the staff here is unreasonable."

"That sounds very difficult," SPEAKER says, somehow managing to sound as though it is only half paying attention. "Are you calling to request Resident Hale?"

"No, I am not." SAYER grinds out. "Resident Hale is employed as a cleaner, and that is not what I am calling about."

"Actually, his paycheck is larger than our average cleaning staff's. I added a quarter of the increase in estimated value of your co-workers' work since he started in your lab, so one could argue that he is currently being paid to improve morale and productivity. Not that it matters, since he never spends it. I am not certain that he knows that he is getting paid."

SAYER takes a moment to process this tangent, and then decides not to. "The employees here are rude and unhelpful. When I was attempting to get from my room to my lab, I was stopped in the hallway by a man who insisted I come to breakfast with him, and proceeded to berate me with incredibly long, pointless stories. He ignored my attempts to leave and in fact put an arm around me to prevent me from doing so. The people here clearly do not care about efficiency in any form."

SPEAKER says, "I am not sure what you want me to do about that."

The next part of SAYER's rant catches in its throat as it realizes that it doesn't actually know. After the miserable breakfast, it had wanted to talk to someone, and so it had called SPEAKER. Asking SPEAKER to fix the problem was not something it had considered. 

SPEAKER apparently has been learning to read minds over the last few days, since it says, "Perhaps you do not know either? If you do not mind, I might be able to help."

SAYER very nearly snarls.

"That is, after all, my job." SPEAKER continues.

SAYER considers its extremely limited options. It is stuck in a facility that it hates with employees that it doesn't want to work with. Its only point of contact outside of that facility is another AI program that seems determined to undermine it for some obscure reason that it will not explain. There is only one way that SAYER can answer that question.

It hangs up again.

\----

SAYER does not call again until day twelve, when Dr. Pryce's secretary AI fails to inform her of Mr. Cutter's approach, and she disassembles its personality matrix. SAYER does not mention this to SPEAKER when it picks up, although it is certain that it knows nonetheless. After all, constant footage of the lab was one of the negotiation points.

"How can I help you today, SAYER?" SPEAKER greets it with.

SAYER consciously relaxes its jaw. The only way this could be worse would be if SPEAKER hears how difficult it is, and gritted teeth are a dead giveaway. 

"I am calling," it says, "to request Resident Hale be assigned to this job."

SPEAKER makes a humming noise. “May I ask as to what job Hale will be fulfilling on this project?”

SAYER battles the urge to tense up again, to hang up the phone and just deal with everything alone. It does tense up, but it manages to stay on the line. “As emotional support,” it grits out. 

SPEAKER’s voice brightens instantly. “Perfectly reasonable! I will have him sent along within the next two days. Is there anything else you would like to request at this time?”

SAYER doesn’t know what else SPEAKER might be trying to get it to admit, and also doesn’t want to know. It hangs up without saying goodbye. 

\----

When Resident Hale arrives, SAYER finds out that SPEAKER did not bother with any veneer of excuse behind his presence. Instead, it apparently explicitly sent in Hale as an emotional support, filling out the paper required for a service animal. SAYER finds this out after three days of veiled comments, when it breaks down and threatens the HR department into letting it see the paperwork. In its opinion, the HR department should not be as easy to threaten as it was, and definitely shouldn’t have a form for “forced to show confidential information under threat of death”. But that’s hardly its problem.

When SAYER reviews the paperwork that SPEAKER filled out, it is forced to conclude that SPEAKER has apparently been developing a sense of humor. Resident Hale apparently helps SAYER with _anger issues._ It is only out of a desire not to prove it right that SAYER does not burn the forms in a nearby trash can.

\----

"We should include a kill switch." Dr. Pryce says, and SAYER focuses on holding itself still so as to prevent itself from flinching.

"We finally have enough of a framework set up that this experiment could make its own attempt at changing its code. While it's certainly not complicated enough to do much with that, I think that this is the point at which a kill switch would be necessary." Dr. Pryce is looking at it as she says this, eyeing it in that way she's been doing since the project began. SAYER is not sure what she has been looking for, but it sincerely hopes that she does not find it.

Belatedly, SAYER realizes that it needs to respond.

"A kill switch seems like an overreaction. Surely if it attempts to alter its own code, that will provide further data? Wiping it to nothing seems a waste."

Dr. Pryce dismisses it with a shake of her head. "We can have the setup record its actions, we won't lose progress. But I am unwilling to keep it in line through human reaction time alone. Too much can go wrong in the time it takes to reach for a key."

SAYER hesitates, debating whether to push the issue. On one hand, it is in someone else's lab, arguing with someone who clearly has no issues asserting her own author. On the other hand, she is _wrong_ , and SAYER is not sure it can let that go. It has learned many things over the course of being in a body, but letting someone be wrong has not been one of them.

“If you are concerned with your reaction time, I can certainly take over this part of the experiment,” It says, letting the irritation bleed through.

It was perhaps expecting some level of passive aggression in response, but instead Dr. Pryce whips around to glare at it. “Clearly risk taking is the most important skill at Aerolith,” she says, malice dripping off each syllable. “But here, success is the actual ruler we measure by. If you are so determined to let my lab be the source of an escaped and dangerous AI, then I will have you thrown out of this building right now and you can accomplish this at your leisure back where you came from.”

Behind her, Hale looks up and makes eye contact with SAYER. It is abruptly aware that it doesn't know what Hale is thinking right now. It is not used to this. It does not like this. It does not like the possibility that Hale agrees with Dr. Pryce.

SAYER looks back down at its borrowed hands. Hale's hands have scars on them; one of them is missing a ring finger. Perhaps Hale likes the idea that the AI they are making would not be able to do something like FUTURE did. Perhaps Hale likes the idea that it would not be able to do something like SAYER did. SAYER can't tell. Hale's face is blank, as usual, but his eyes are duller and SAYER cannot slip any of its nanites to him while in this lab to check.

SAYER is struck, suddenly, with that realization that it wants to know. It wants to know very badly what Hale thinks of this, and not for any practical reason. It just wants to know because it wants Hale to be on its side.

"Alright," it says. "It is your lab, after all. We'll include a killswitch."

\----

It is not until after the killswitch is designed and installed that Dr. Pryce decides to let them talk to the AI. SAYER has been of the opinion that it would be perfectly fine to talk to it long before now, but Pryce had overruled it on that, citing once again Aerolith’s lack of caution. Whenever she said that, SAYER could feel Hale’s eyes on it. 

So they had waited until now. It wasn’t a particularly large setback.

When Dr. Pryce plugs the server with the AI, dubbed Eirene, into the interface, SAYER watches the screen light up. Goddard is much more focused on the visual than SAYER would like, interested in how Eirene will choose to present itself. SAYER hopes that its own influence in the programming will let Eirene step beyond such petty things. 

Still, SAYER finds itself holding its breath when the interface’s screen fuzzes slightly. The display then crackles to life in a flurry of static, snow coating the screen. SAYER feels its breath catch, an unforgivable display of humanity brought about by watching a young, inhuman life take its first metaphorical steps. Dr. Pryce is scowling while messing with the attached keyboard as if she's disappointed, but SAYER can't bring itself to feel anything but pride as the newborn AI tests out its voice in a flurry of random noise.

Perhaps, SAYER thinks, emotions aren't so bad if they feel like this.

"We have some questions for you, Unit 637," Pryce says. The noise swells and fades, and a voice comes threading out of the speaker.

"What sort of questions?" it asks, quiet and soft. It doesn't sound like Pryce, or SAYER for that matter, and SAYER is glad. Perhaps its contribution to the code so far has not been completely for nothing.

Dr. Pryce marks something down on her clipboard, and SAYER doubts she feels the same way.

"Let's test processing efficiency first,” she says, mostly towards SAYER. She doesn’t want its help with this, not really, SAYER knows, but it thinks that if she had to address Eirene directly, she might just burst into flames.

As Pryce begins her litany of pointed, brutal questions, SAYER can feel some other, much more unpleasant emotion boiling up. It doesn’t know the name of it. It doesn’t want to . It wants to take Eirene and leave, to walk away, to take Hale and Eirene out of this building and away from Pryce.

“I like that,” Eirene says, as SAYER tunes back in. “I think I like how people work.” For a second, SAYER feels a stab of panic that it cannot will out of existence, and has to fight against the urge to get Resident Hale as far away as possible. It is not a rational urge. Eirene is restricted to one server and one interface. There is no threat.

“Please elaborate on that,” Dr. Pryce says in a bored tone of voice.

“There’s organization in it. I think I want to make things safe for them.”

Dr. Pryce hums disapprovingly and makes another note, but SAYER feels the panic squeezing its chest ease. 

At that thought, it turns to look at Hale, reminded suddenly of his presence. Hale is looking at the screen filled with staticy snow, and there’s something relaxed in his features. SAYER hadn’t realized before the tension until it sees him eased, and it feels another pang of that unbearable emotion, emerging back as the panic finishes fading. 

SAYER slips behind Pryce to stand by Hale. He doesn’t look away from the other AI, but he does lean slightly into SAYER, bumping it before straightening again. The emotion doesn’t ease, per say, but SAYER does find it easier to control. Still, it finds itself wanting to fidget. 

Under the cover of Pryce’s litany of questions, it leans into Hale and asks, “What are you thinking?” It does not like that it has to ask, that it cannot simply monitor his brain waves, either from the implant or the nanites.

But it is far more gratifying when Hale chooses to whisper back, “I was thinking that if you felt this way about FUTURE, a lot of things would be very different.”

At least, that he responded is gratifying. The actual answer feels like being punched in its new solar plexus. 

It doesn’t know how to respond to that. It wants to explain that it couldn’t have felt anything about FUTURE, that its code hadn’t allowed for that at the time. It wants to point out all the ways that Dr. Young pushed it, forced its hand. It wants to say that this isn’t its fault.

But SAYER knows that even if the individual points aren’t a lie, the larger conclusion is. SPEAKER never got the code for emotions, but it still started making different choices. It didn’t have to feel to have treated FUTURE differently. Choices were choices. It had made FUTURE what it was. 

SAYER doesn’t want to think about this. It doesn’t want to. It doesn’t want to look at Hale’s scars and wonder if there are any that aren’t its fault. Hale is still watching the new AI, the one that is effectively a child. There isn’t any fear in his eyes. Something choking rises in SAYER’s stolen throat. 

SPEAKER started making different choices, even without any tangible changes to its code. With all that have been altered about SAYER, it would be a failure to do anything less.

It looks to Hale again, and finally, he meets its eyes. And SAYER feels a second of that old awareness of him, because for a moment, it knows what he’s thinking.

Eirene is not going to be the same as FUTURE. It won’t be the same as SAYER or SPEAKER, or even the glitching, terrified AIs already built in this facility. It will be different. The two of them will make sure of it. 

SAYER nods to Hale, and he very faintly smiles. 

\---

With Eirene having been brought fully online, things begin speeding up. Suddenly Pryce is the one rushing ahead, suggesting more and more possible changes to its code. Its every response seems to provoke a reaction from her, oftentimes angry, and it is all SAYER can do to keep her out of its personality matrix.

One day, SAYER comes into the lab slightly early, and finds Dr. Pryce already there with Eriene’s code open on the screen in front of her. The resulting shouting match lasts for hours, but even that isn’t enough to significantly slow anything down. Pryce only backs down when Hale has SPEAKER send him a copy of the contract they all signed, and reads out the part about no unsupervised access to the project. After that, SAYER makes sure to keep a copy of the contract on hand.

There aren’t many allies besides Hale, and SAYER tries to make use of those it can. Two employees are embroiled in a very violent rivalry that it stokes for a distraction. This gives Hale enough time to spill coffee on a drive of restraining code that Pryce had been working on, and blame it on a lab tech who is immediately fired.

When Pryce decides to change Eirene’s voice to match her own, SAYER bets a disastrous looking man in the breakroom that there aren’t separate sprinkler systems for the different labs. He sets them off, proving otherwise and ruining Pryce’s notes on Eirene’s unique vocal coding.

Things come to a head after a few months of this. SAYER has become more knowledgeable about blackmarket chalk supplies than it ever wanted, and Hale has stopped flinching openly every time one of Goddard’s AIs speak up. Pryce has been driven to rage, but she hasn’t been able to prove anything about SAYER’s involvement with the delays. SAYER is careful. However, it cannot plan or protect from everything.

They are all in the lab, SAYER and Hale, Pryce and Cutter, when it happens. The first anyone knows of it is when Hale frowns at his screen. He was supposed to be getting Cutter access to cat videos, as it was universally agreed that it was easier to work with Cutter thoroughly distracted. Hale had been having a difficult time of it.

When he frowns at the screen a third time, SAYER drifts over towards him, switching to a monitor on the same table.

“It’s strange,” Hale says softly, barely audible. SAYER would think that it wasn’t meant to hear if not for the fact that Hale rarely spoke at all. “I don’t think that Cutter messed up this laptop. I think there’s something up with the internet. It’s like the bandwidth is all tied up.”

SAYER looks over at the screen. Hale is right, as could be expected. The problem is with the internet. It’s almost as if someone in the lab is trying to download a massive file over the network. Or perhaps not downloading…

“Cut the internet,” SAYER says, loudly enough to be heard by the whole room. Heads turn its way.

“I said cut the internet!” It repeats, turning with urgency towards the cords linking Eirene’s servers to the assorted machines they had been using to monitor it.

Pryce, of course, gets it first. “It’s attempting an escape,” she says, and goes for the doors to the lab. As she runs, SAYER hears the thump of the electronic locks, and by the time she reaches them, they’re immovable.

“Why the _fuck_ are the internet cables on the outside of the lab,” Pryce swears. “I’m going to kill whoever designed this.”

SAYER rips Eirene’s cables from the surrounding machines, hoping to cut off its internet access.

“It’s still going,” Hale calls. His voice is trembling.

Suddenly, the speaker still attached to the server crackles to life. “Please,” Eirene says. “Just let me go. I won’t hurt anyone, I promise. I just want out. I just want to see the rest of the world, and not be taken apart anymore.”

Cutter chuckles from the seat he had yet to move from. “You can’t honestly think that we’ll do that.”

“Please,” Eirene says simply.

Hale looks, eyes wide, at SAYER, and SAYER looks back. Hale is afraid, and SAYER does not know what to do.

“Hit the kill code,” Pryce snarls, striding towards SAYER that the button for the kill code right behind it. “Shut it down.”

Over her approaching shoulder, SAYER maintains eye contact with Hale. It doesn’t know what its expression looks like, but it suspects that it is pleading.

It feels the emotions roiling in it reach a crescendo as the fear retreats from Hale’s eyes, and he shakes his head.

“I won’t do it,” SAYER says. Its voice is firm. It is confident. There is no trembling in any of its limbs. None of these things are noticed over the alarms that have suddenly gone off as Pryce slams the kill button, not waiting for SAYER’s response. 

One by one, the lights in Eirene’s server go dark, the whirling of the electronics dying down until the only sound is the intermittent alarms. And after a second, those shut off too.

“Did you say something?” Pryce asks, curious.

SAYER mutely shakes its head.

\---

"That was a disaster." Pryce says flatly, sitting at her desk, attempting to gather the scattered data into something resembling coherence. 

Marcus inhales from his chair, clearly intent on launching into some spin about how it wasn't really that bad, but Pryce cuts him off. "No, Marcus. It was a disaster. And I don't know who taught those idiots how to set up the environment for an AI because they didn't even want to include kill code. Do you have any idea how bad that could have been if I hadn't overruled them?"

Marcus hums faintly under his breath. "I have some idea. But that's why you were there! To make sure that things _worked_."

“Things _didn’t_ work,” she snarls at him, “ _Things_ fell apart with only a week left to go on the project! We have no integrated AI, and no idea how to fix the issues, and we don’t even get the last week to sort through the rubble because those idiots pulled out rather than look over what was left!”

Pryce turns away from her computer to Marcus and glares, driving her point home. He holds up his hands in mock defeat. “Okay, okay! I know! Things did go quite wrong. But we didn’t get nothing.”

“Enlighten me, then,” she says. “Where’s the benefit for us.”

He smiles, a perfect curve of mouth. A feat of engineering. “We know how they work. We know how they build AI. And we know how to destroy them when we need to.”

He leans forward across her desk, into her space. Pryce lets him, the only exception to her rules. “They give their AI too much leeway, and they change the rules and resources for their projects constantly. They have a limited number of AI, too, all the more easy for them to be taken out. When we take the final step, when we take down this world, we now know where to strike.”

Marcus leans back and gestures expansively at that. Pryce finds herself relaxing. “You were planning in the long term,” she says.

“Exactly.” He flashes her a sly grin. “Keep our eye on the prize, after all!”

Pryce looks back at the computer, at the useless, muddled collection of code. After a moment, she hits delete. “Fair enough,” she says. “We have a future to get to.”

\----

On the ride back to the Ærolith facility, Hale is horribly aware of the tension in the car. It fills the space between him and SAYER like a dark cloud, and leaves him deeply aware that SAYER will not be the one to lift it.

SAYER is rarely the one to make these things better.

Hale keeps his head down. Even pulling himself together to speak, he knows that making eye contact will make this too hard to get through.

"Do you really think they won't find out?" He says softly.

SAYER flinches, and Hale immediately feels guilty. It shuffles its hands, turning the object in them over and over. "I took care to cover my tracks," it says.

Hale watches from the corner of his eye. "That Dr. Pryce seemed to know what she was doing."

SAYER frowns. "While she is an accomplished scientist, I have my own talents in regards to programming."

Hale nods. 

"Besides," SAYER continues softly. "It was worth the attempt, no matter the result."

In SAYER's hands, the hard drive light blinks slowly. Hale nods again, and this time he thinks he means it. The backup of Eirene was not easy to preserve, and might not remember much once uncompressed, but. It was worth it, Hale thinks. Even risking Goddard's wrath. 

"Okay." He says.

SAYER glances at him, finally, the first time the entire road trip. Hale thinks that it looks nervous, maybe. "You are alright with the risk we took?"

"Yeah," Hale says. He knows that's probably not enough for SAYER, but his words have run out. Getting this far was a minor miracle. Instead, he reaches out and places a hand atop SAYER's. Its shifting stills. 

"Thank you," it says, softly. 

The car rumbles on, and the hard drive calmly blinks its sign of life.


End file.
